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The Sea Lions; or The Lost Sealers, a novel by James Fenimore Cooper

Chapter 18

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_ Chapter XVIII

"Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles,
On Bhering's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles;
Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow,
From wastes that slumber in eternal snow,
And waft across the waves' tumultuous roar,
The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska's shore,"

Campbell.


Roswell Gardiner set about his duties, the succeeding day, with a shade of deep reflection on his brow. A crisis had, indeed, come in his affairs, and it behooved him to look well to his proceedings. Daggett's presence on the island was no longer of any moment to himself or his owner, but there remained the secret of the Key, and of the buried treasure. Should the two schooners keep together, how was he to acquit himself in that part of his duty, without admitting of a partnership, against which he knew that every fibre in the deacon's system, whether physical or moral, would revolt. Still, his word was pledged, and he had no choice but to remain, and help fill up the rival Sea Lion, and trust to his own address in getting rid of her again, as the two vessels proceeded north.

The chief mate of Daggett's craft, though a good sealer, was an impetuous and reckless man, and had more than once found fault with the great precautions used, by the orders of Roswell. Macy, as this officer was called, was for making a regular onslaught upon the animals, slaying as many as they could at once, and then take up the business of curing and trying-out as a regular job. He had seen such things done with success, and he believed it was the most secure mode of getting along. 'Some of these fine mornings,' as he expressed it, 'Captain Gar'ner would turn out, and find that his herd was off--gone to pasture in some other field.' This was a view of the matter with which Roswell did not at all agree. His forbearing and cautious policy had produced excellent results so far, and he hoped it would continue so to do, until both schooners were full. On the morning when the men next went forth, he as leader of both crews, therefore, our young master renewed his admonitions, pointing out to the new-comers, in particular, the great necessity there was of using forbearance, and not to alarm the seals more than the work indispensably required. The usual number of "Ay, ay's, sir!" were given in reply, and the gangs went along the rocks, seemingly in a good humour to obey these injunctions.

Circumstances, however, were by no means favourable to giving Roswell the same influence over the Vineyard-men as he possessed over his own crew. He was a young commander, and this was his first voyage in that capacity, as all well knew; then, there had been rivalry and competition between the two crafts, which was a feeling not so easily removed; next, Macy felt, and even intimated, that he was the lawful commander of his own schooner, in cases in which Daggett was disabled, and that the latter had no power to transfer him and his people to the authority of any other individual. All these points were discussed that day with some freedom, particularly among the Vineyard-men, and especially the last.

Wisely has it been said that "the king's name is a tower of strength." They who have the law on their side, carry with them a weight of authority that it is not easy to shake by means of pure reasoning on right or wrong. Men are much inclined to defer to those who are thus armed, legal control being ordinarily quite as effective in achieving a victory, as having one's "quarrel just." In a certain sense, authority indeed becomes justice, and we look to its proper exercise as one of the surest means of asserting what "is right between man and man."

"The _commodore_ says that the critturs are to be treated delicately," said Macy, laughing, as he lanced his first seal that morning, a young one of the fur species; "so take up the pet, lads, and lay it in its cradle, while I go look for its mamma."

A shout of merriment succeeded this sally, and the men were only so much the more disposed to be rebellious and turbulent, in consequence of hearing so much freedom of remark in their officer.

"The child's in its cradle, Mr. Macy," returned Jenkins, who was a wag as well as the mate. "In my judgment, the best mode of rocking it to sleep will be by knocking over all these grim chaps that are so plenty in our neighbourhood."

"Let 'em have it!" cried Macy, making an onset on an elephant, as he issued the order. In an instant, the rocks at that point of the island were a scene of excitement and confusion. Hazard, who was near at hand, succeeded in restraining his own people, but it really seemed as if the Vineyard-men were mad. A great many seals were killed, it is true; but twenty were frightened to take refuge in the ocean, where one was slain. All animals have their alarm cries, or, if not absolutely cries, signals that are understood by themselves. Occasionally, one sees a herd, or a flock, take to its heels, or to its wings, without any apparent cause, but in obedience to some warning that is familiar to their instincts. Thus must it have been with the seals; for the rocks were soon deserted, even at the distance of a league from the scene of slaughter, leaving Hazard and his gang literally with nothing to do, unless, indeed, they returned to complete some stowage that remained to be done, on board their own craft.

"I suppose you know, Mr. Macy, all this is contrary to orders," said Hazard, as he was leading his own gang back towards the cove. "You see I am obliged to go in and report."

"Report and welcome!" was the answer. "I have no commander but Captain Daggett;--and, by the way, if you see him, Hazard, just tell him we have made a glorious morning's work of it."

"Ay, ay; you will have your hands full enough to-day, Macy; but how will it be to-morrow?"

"Why, just as it has been to-day. The devils must come up to blow, and we're sartain of 'em, somewhere along the shore. This day's work is worth any two that I've seen; since I came upon the island."

"Very true; but what will to-morrow's work be worth? I will tell Captain Daggett what you wish me to say, however, and we will hear his opinion on the subject. In my judgment, he means to command his craft till she gets back to the Hole, legs or no legs."

Hazard went his way, shaking his head ominously as he proceeded. Nor was he much mistaken in what he expected from Daggett's anger. That experienced sealer sent for his mate, and soon gave him to understand that he was yet his commander. Loose and neighbourly as is usually the discipline of one of these partnership vessels, there is commonly a man on board who is every way competent to assert the authority given him by the laws, as well as by his contract. Macy was sent for, rebuked, and menaced with degradation from his station, should he again presume to violate his orders. As commonly happens in cases of this nature, regrets were expressed by the offender, and future obedience promised.

But the mischief was done. Sealing was no longer the regular, systematic pursuit it had been on that island, but had become precarious and changeful. At times, the men met with good success; then, days would occur in which not a single creature, of any of the different species, would be taken. The Vineyard schooner was not more than half-full, and the season was fast drawing to a close. Roswell was quite ready to sail, and he began to chafe a little under the extra hazards that were thus imposed on himself and his people.

In the mean time, or fully three weeks after the occurrence of the accident to Daggett, the injuries received by the wounded man were fast healing. The bones had knit, and the leg promised, in another month, to become tolerably sound, if not as strong as it had been before the hurt. All the bruises were well, and the captain of the Vineyard craft was just beginning to move about a little on crutches; a prodigious relief to one of his habits, after the confinement to the house. By dint of great care, he could work his way down on the shelf that stretched, like a terrace, for two hundred yards beneath the dwelling. Here he met Roswell, on the morning of the Sabbath, just three weeks after their unfortunate visit to the mountain. Each took his seat on a low point of rock, and they began to converse on their respective prospects, and on the condition of their vessels and crews. Stephen was near his officer, as usual.

"I believe Stimson was right in urging me to give the men their Sabbaths," observed Gardiner, glancing round at the different groups, in which the men were washing, shaving, and otherwise getting rid of the impurities created by another week of toil. "They begin anew, after a little rest, with a better will, and steadier hands."

"Yes, the Sabbath _is_ a great privilege, especially to such as are on shore," returned Daggett. "At sea, I make no great account of it: a craft must jog along, high days or holidays."

"Depend on it, the same account is kept of the day, Captain Daggett, in the great log-book above, whether a man is on or off soundings," put in Stephen, who was privileged ever to deliver his sentiments on such subjects. "The Lord is God on the sea, as on the land."

There was a pause; for the solemn manner and undoubted sincerity of the speaker produced an impression on his companions, little given as they were to thinking deeply on things of that nature. Then Roswell renewed the discourse, turning it on a matter that had been seriously uppermost in his mind for several days.

"I wish to converse with you, Captain Daggett, about our prospects and chances," he said. "My schooner is full, as you know. We could do no more, if we stayed here another season. You are about half-full, with a greatly diminished chance of filling up this summer. Mr. Macy's attack on the seals has put you back a month, at least, and every day we shall find the animals less easy to take. The equinox is not very far off, and then, you know, we shall get less and less sun,--so little, as to be of no great use to us. We want day-light to get through the ice, and we shall have a long hundred leagues of it between us and clear water, even were we to get under way to-morrow. Remember what a serious thing it would be, to get caught up here, in so high a latitude, after the sun has left us!"

"I understand you, Gardner," answered the other, quietly, though his manner denoted a sort of compelled resignation, rather than any cordial acquiescence in that which he believed his brother master intended to propose. "You're master of your own vessel; and I dare say Deacon Pratt would be much rejoiced to see you coming in between Shelter Island and Oyster Pond. I'm but a cripple, or I think the Vineyard craft wouldn't be many days' run astarn!"

Roswell was provoked; but his pride was touched also. Biting his lip, he was silent for a moment, when he spoke very much to the point, but generously, and like a man.

"I'll tell you what it is, Daggett," said our hero, "good-fellowship is good-fellowship, and the flag is the flag. It is the duty of all us Yankee seamen to stand by the stripes; and I hope I'm as ready as another to do what I ought to do, in such a matter; but my owner is a close calculator, and I am much inclined to think that he will care less for this sort of feeling than you and I. The deacon was never in blue water."

"So I suppose--He has a charming daughter, I believe, Gar'ner?"

"You mean his niece, I suppose," answered Roswell, colouring. "The deacon never had any child himself, I believe--at least he has none living. Mary Pratt is his niece."

"It's all the same--niece or daughter, she's comely, and will be rich, I hear. _Well_, I am _poor_, and what is more, a _cripple!_"

Roswell could have knocked his companion down, for he perfectly understood the character of the allusion; but he had sufficient self-command to forbear saying anything that might betray how much he felt.

It is always easier to work upon the sensitiveness of a spirited and generous-minded man, than to influence him by force or apprehensions. Roswell had never liked the idea of leaving Daggett behind him, at that season, and in that latitude; and he relished it still less, now that he saw a false reason might be attributed to his conduct.

"You certainly do not dream of wintering here, Captain Daggett?" he said, after a pause.

"Not if I can help it. But the schooner can never go back to the Vineyard without a full hold. The very women would make the island too hot for us in such a case. Do your duty by Deacon Pratt, Gar'ner, and leave me here to get along as well as I can. I shall be able to walk a little in a fortnight; and, in a month, I hope to be well enough to get out among the people, and regulate their sealing a little myself. Mr. Macy will be more moderate with my eye on him."

"A month! He who stays here another month may almost make up his mind to stay eight more of them; if, indeed, he ever get away from the group at all!"

"A late start is better than a half-empty vessel. When you get in to Oyster Pond, Gar'ner, I hope you will send a line across to the Vineyard, and tell 'em all about us."

Another long and brooding pause succeeded, during which Roswell's mind was made up.

"I will do this with you, Daggett," he said, speaking like one who had fully decided on his course. "Twenty days longer will I remain here, and help to make out your cargo; after which I sail, whether you get another skin or a thousand. This will be remaining as long as any prudent man ought to stay in so high a latitude."

"Give me your hand, Gar'ner. I knew you had the clear stuff in you, and that it would make itself seen at the proper moment. I trust that Providence will favour us--it's really a pity to lose as fine a day as this; especially as the crittur's are coming up on the rocks to bask, something like old times!"

"You'll gain no great help from that Providence you just spoke of, Captain Daggett, by forgetting to keep 'Holy the Sabbath,'" said Stimson, earnestly. "Try forbearance a little, and find the good that will come of it."

"He is right," said Roswell, "as I know from having done as he advises. Well, our bargain is made. For twenty days longer I stay here, helping you to fill up. That will bring us close upon the equinox, when I shall get to the northward as fast as I can. In that time, too, I think you will be able to return to duty."

This, then, was the settled arrangement. Roswell felt that he conceded more than he ought to do; but the feeling of good-fellowship was active within him, and he was strongly averse to doing anything that might wear the appearance of abandoning a companion in his difficulties. All this time our hero was fully aware that he was befriending a competitor; and he was not without his suspicions that Daggett wished to keep him within his view until the visit had been paid to the Key. Nevertheless, Roswell's mind was made up. He would remain the twenty days, and do all he could in that time to help along the voyage of the Vineyarders.

The sealing was now continued with more order and method than had been observed under Macy's control. The old caution was respected, and the work prospered in proportion. Each night, on his return to the house, Gardiner had a good report to make; and that peculiar snapping of the eye, that denoted Daggett's interest in his calling, was to be again traced in the expression of the Vineyarder's features; a certain proof that he was fast falling into his old train of thought and feeling. Daggett was never happier than when listening to some account of the manner in which an old elephant or lion had been taken, or a number of fur-seals had been made to pay their tribute to the enterprise and address of his people.

As for Roswell, though he complied with his promise, and carried on the duty with industry and success, his eye was constantly turned on those signs that denote the advance of the seasons. Now he scanned the ocean to the northward, and noted the diminished number as well as lessened size of the floating bergs; proofs that the summer and the waves had been at work on their sides. Next, his look was on the sun, which was making his daily course, lower and lower, each time that he appeared, settling rapidly away towards the north, as if in haste to quit a hemisphere that was so little congenial to his character. The nights, always cool in that region, began to menace frost; and the signs of the decline of the year that come so much later in more temperate climates, began to make themselves apparent here. It is true, that of vegetation there was so little, and that little so meagre and of so hardy a nature, that in this respect the progress of the seasons was not to be particularly noted; but in all others, Roswell saw with growing uneasiness that the latest hour of his departure was fast drawing near.

The sealing went on the while, and with reasonable returns, though the golden days of the business had been seriously interrupted by Macy's indiscretion and disobedience. The men worked hard, for they too foresaw the approach of the long night of the antarctic circle, and all the risk of remaining too long. As we have had frequent occasion to use the term 'antarctic,' it may be well here to say a few words in explanation. It is not our wish to be understood that these sealers had penetrated literally within that belt of eternal snows and ice, but approximatively. Few navigators, so far as our knowledge extends, have absolutely gone as far south as this. Wilkes did it, it is true; and others among the late explorers have been equally enterprising and successful. The group visited by Gardiner on this occasion was quite near to this imaginary line; but we do not feel at liberty precisely to give its latitude and longitude. To this hour it remains a species of private property; and in this age of anti-rentism and other audacious innovations on long-received and venerable rules of conduct, we do not choose to be parties to any inroads on the rights of individuals when invaded by the cupidity and ruthless power of numbers. Those who wish to imitate Roswell must find the islands by bold adventure as he reached them; for we are tongue-tied on the subject. It is enough, therefore, that we say the group is _near_ the antarctic circle; whether a little north or a little south of it, is a matter of no moment. As those seas have a general character, we shall continue to call-them the antarctic seas; with the understanding that, included in the term, are the nearest waters without as well as within the circle.

Glad enough was Roswell Gardiner when his twenty days were up. March was now far advanced, and the approach of the long nights was near. The Vineyard craft was not full, nor was Daggett yet able to walk without a crutch; but orders were issued by Gardiner, on the evening of the last day, for his own crew to "knock off sealing," and to prepare to get under way for home.

"Your mind is made up, Gar'ner," said Daggett, in a deprecating sort of way, as if he still had latent hopes of persuading his brother-master to remain a little longer "Another week would almost fill us up."

"Not another day," was the answer. "I have stayed too long already, and shall be off in the morning. If you will take my advice. Captain Daggett, you will do the same thing. Winter comes in this latitude very much as spring appears in our own; or with a hop, skip, and a jump. I have no fancy to be groping about among the ice, after the nights get to be longer than the days!"

"All true enough, Gar'ner; all quite true--but it has such a look to take a craft home, and she not full!"

"You have a great abundance of provisions; stop and whale awhile on the False Banks, as you go north. I would much rather stick by you there a whole month, than remain here another day."

"You make me narvous, talking of the group in this way! I'm sartain that this bay must remain clear of ice several weeks longer."

"Perhaps it may; it is more likely to be so than to freeze up. But this will not lengthen the days and carry us safe through the fields and bergs that we know are drifting about out here to the northward. There's a hundred leagues of ocean thereaway, Daggett, that I care for more just now, than for all the seal that are left on these islands. But, talking is useless; I go to-morrow; if you are wise, you will sail in company."

This settled the matter. Daggett well knew it would be useless to remain without the aid of Roswell's counsel, and that of his crew's hands; for Macy was not to be trusted any more as the leader of a gang of sealers. The man had got to be provoked and reckless, and had called down upon himself latterly more than one rebuke. It was necessary, therefore, that one of the Sea Lions should accompany the other. The necessary orders were issued accordingly, and "hey for home!" were the words that now cheerfully passed from mouth to mouth. That pleasant idea of "home," in which is concentrated all that is blessed in this life, the pale of the Christian duties and charities excepted, brings to each mind its particular forms of happiness and good. The weather-beaten seaman, the foot-worn soldier, the weary traveller, the adventurer in whatever lands interest or pleasure may lead, equally feels a throb at his heart as he hears the welcome sounds of "hey for home." Never were craft prepared for sea with greater rapidity than was the case now with our two Sea Lions. It is true that the Oyster-Ponders were nearly ready, and had been quite so, for a fortnight; but a good deal remained to be done among the Vineyarders. The last set themselves to their task with a hearty good-will, however, and with corresponding results.

"We will leave the house standing for them that come after us," said Roswell, when the last article belonging to his schooner was taken out of it. "The deacon has crammed us so full of wood that I shall be tempted to throw half of it overboard, now we have so much cargo. Let all stand, Hazard, bunks, planks and all; for really we have no room for the materials. Even this wood," pointing to a pile of several cords that had been landed already to make room for skins and casks that had been brought out in shocks, "must go to the next comer. Perhaps it may be one of ourselves; for we sailors never know what port will next fetch us up."

"I hope it will be old Sag, sir," answered Hazard, cheerfully; "for, though no great matter of a seaport, it is near every man's home, and may be called a sort of door-way to go in and out of the country through."

"A side-door, at the best," answered Roswell. "With you, I trust it will be the next haven that we enter; though I shall take the schooner at once in behind Shelter Island, and tie her up to the deacon's wharf."

What images of the past and future did these few jocular words awaken in the mind of our young sealer! He fancied that he saw Mary standing in the porch of her uncle's habitation, a witness of the approach of the schooner, looking wistfully at the still indistinct images of those who were to be seen on her decks. Mary had often done this in her dreams; again and again had she beheld the white sails of the Sea Lion driving across Gardiner's Bay, and entering Peconic; and often had she thus gazed in the weather-worn countenance of him who occupied so much of her thoughts--so many of her prayers--picturing through the mysterious images of sleep the object she so well loved when waking.

And where was Mary Pratt at that day and hour when Roswell was thus issuing his last orders at Sealer's Land; and what was her occupation, and what her thoughts? The difference in longitude between the group and Montauk was so trifling that the hour might be almost called identical. Literally so, it was not; but mainly so, it was. There were not the five degrees in difference that make the twenty minutes in time. More than this we are not permitted to say on this subject; and this is quite enough to give the navigator a pretty near notion of the position of the group. As a degree of longitude measures less than twenty-eight statute miles at the polar circles, this is coming within a day's run of the spot, so far as longitude is concerned; and nearer than that we do not intend to carry the over-anxious reader, let his curiosity be as lively as it may.

And where, then, was Mary Pratt? Safe, well, and reasonably happy, in the house of her uncle, where she had passed most of her time since infancy. The female friends of mariners have always fruitful sources of uneasiness in the pursuit itself; but Mary had no other cause for concern of this nature than what was inseparable from so long a voyage, and the sea into which Roswell had gone. She well knew that the time was arrived when he was expected to be on his way home; and as hope is an active and beguiling feeling, she already fancied him to be much advanced on his return. But a dialogue which took place that very day--nay, that very hour--between her and the deacon, will best explain her views and opinions, and expectations.

"It's very extr'or'nary, Mary," commenced the uncle, "that Gar'ner doesn't write! If he only know'd how a man feels when his property is ten thousand miles off, I'm sartain he would write, and not leave me with so many misgivings in the matter."

"By whom is he to write, uncle?" answered the more considerate and reasonable niece. "There are no post-offices in the antarctic seas, nor any travellers to bring letters by private hands."

"But he _did_ write once; and plaguy good news was it that he sent us in that letter!"

"He did write from Rio, for there he had the means. By my calculations, Roswell has left his sealing ground some three or four weeks, and must now be as many thou sand miles on his way home."

"D'ye think so, gal?--d'ye think so?" exclaimed the deacon, his eyes fairly twinkling with pleasure. "That would be good news; and if he doesn't stop too long by the way, we might look for him home in less than ninety days from this moment!"

Mary smiled pensively, and a richer colour stole into her cheeks, slowly but distinctly.

"I do not think, uncle, that Roswell Gardiner will be very likely to stop on his way to us here, on Oyster Pond," was the answer she made.

"I should be sorry to think that. The best part of his v'y'ge may be made in the West Ingees, and I hope he is not a man to overlook his instructions."

"Will Roswell be obliged to stop in the West Indies, uncle?"

"Sartain--if he obeys his orders; and I think the young man will do _that_. But the business there will not detain him long,"--Mary's countenance brightened again, at this remark,--"and, should you be right, we, may still look for him in the next ninety days."

Mary remained silent for a short time, but her charming face was illuminated by an expression of heartfelt happiness, which, however, the next remark of her uncle's had an obvious tendency to disturb.

"Should Gar'ner come home successful, Mary," inquired the deacon, "successful in all things--successful in sealing, and successful in that other matter--the West Ingee business, I mean--but successful in all, as I daily pray he may be,--I want to know if you would then have him; always supposing that he got back himself unchanged?"

"Unchanged, I shall never be his wife," answered Mary, tremulously, but firmly.

The deacon looked at her in surprise; for he had never comprehended but one reason why the orphan and penniless Mary should refuse so pertinaciously to become the wife of Roswell Gardiner; and that was his own want of means. Now the deacon loved Mary more than he was aware of himself, but he had never actually made up his mind to leave her the heiress of his estate. The idea of parting with property at all, was too painful for him to think of making a will; and without such an instrument, there were others who would have come in for a part of the assets, "share and share alike," as the legal men express it. Of all this was the deacon fully aware and it occasionally troubled him: more of late than formerly, since he felt in his system the unerring signs of decay. Once had he got so far as to write on a page of foolscap, "In the name of God, Amen;" but the effort proved too great for him, and he abandoned the undertaking. Still Deacon Pratt loved his niece, and was well inclined to see her become the wife of "young Gar'ner," more especially should the last return successful.

"Unchanged!" repeated the uncle, slowly; "you sartainly would not wish to marry him, Mary, if he was _changed!_"

"I do not mean changed, in the sense you are thinking of, uncle. But we will not talk of this now. Why should Roswell stop in the West Indies at all? It is not usual for our vessels to stop there."

"No, it is not. If Gar'ner stop at all, it will be on a very _unusual_ business, and one that may make all our fortunes--your'n, as well as his'n and mine, Mary."

"I hope that sealers never meddle with the transportation of slaves, uncle!" the girl exclaimed, with a face filled with apprehension. "I would rather live and die poor, than have anything to do with them!"

"I see no such great harm in the trade, gal; but such is not Roswell's ar'nd in the West Ingees. It's a great secret, the reason of his call there; and I will venture to foretell that, should he make it, and should it turn out successful, you will marry him, gal."

Mary made no reply. Well was she assured that Roswell had an advocate in her own heart, that was pleading for him, night and day; but firm was her determination not to unite herself with one, however dear to her, who set up his feeble understanding of the nature of the mediation between God and man, in opposition to the plainest language of revelation, as well as to the prevalent belief of the church, since the ages that immediately succeeded the Christian era. _

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